


Death XII ; The missing part

by Ghost_Writing



Series: The Arcana One Shots and Short Stories [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Amputation, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Backstory, Bottom Lucio (The Arcana), Canon Backstory, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), I Blame Tumblr, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I wanna hug Lucio, Light Angst, Lucio (The Arcana) Route, Other, POV First Person, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Submissive Lucio (The Arcana), Tears, kiss, this is the continuation of Death XII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-22 11:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22782052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost_Writing/pseuds/Ghost_Writing
Summary: You're on the Lazaret when Lucio returns to physical form.But what happens if a very tired, newly bodied count just wants to relax and cry?
Relationships: Apprentice/Lucio (The Arcana), Lucio (The Arcana)/Reader, Lucio (The Arcana)/You
Series: The Arcana One Shots and Short Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637857
Comments: 2
Kudos: 145





	Death XII ; The missing part

**Author's Note:**

> Second time writing for the Arcana.
> 
> Oh yeah, I'm not dead! I've been writing my own novel so it's been taking up my whole writing time... whoops? It'll be posted when done, but I needed practice with writing amputee characters so any tips would be helpful :P

You reach forward and your hand's stopped by something solid. Suprised, you open your eyes to see a solid gold arm glistening back at you. You quickly look up and your gaze is met by two honey gold eyes, equally as startled as you are. 

"L-lucio?" You squeak, a smile brightening your face.

"I'm... did you do this?!" He looks at you with sheer joy in his eyes before wrapping you up in his arms. The cold metal of his gold arm touching against your bare skin.

"No? I don't think so. This is something else," you reply, hugging him tightly back. 

"Well it doesn't matter, 'cause I'm back. I'm back!" he cheers into your shoulder, picking you up and spinning you around.

You're laughing with him when his legs give out and the two of you fall to the ground. Despite your surroundings, you continue to laugh as you stand back up again.

"We should head home. Think you can stand?" you ask, extending your hand out to the Count. 

"Y-yeah. I saw a boat when I was dragged here. It's down by the docks," he adds helpfully, grabbing your hand and standing. 

His hot skin against yours is a new sensation and you nearly jump from the touch.

Together, you walk in silence to the docks. Neither of you wants to bring up what just occurred.

As he said, there's a lone boat amongst the ash, waiting at the dock. You climb in with him, trying not to tip the boat, and pick up the oar. 

You row the two of you back to shore.

Halfway through, his voice breaks the silence.

"Can we go to your shop?"

You look over in shock.

"You want to... go to my shop?"

"Yes? Is that bad? I've never seen it... and I just thought..."

"We can go to my shop. You don't have to make an excuse." You smile at him as you continue to row, the shore now insight.

"Okay," he says calmly, trying to hide the smile on his face.

* * *

Once you reach the shore, you dock the boat. No one's around to notice you bringing the former Count into the city as you walk through streets and back-alleys. You reach your shop quickly, as the Count stumbles behind you. His arm squeaks and clicks as he flexes it, and out of the corner of your eye, you catch him sneaking his hand between the prosthetic and his shoulder as if it's rubbing him the wrong way.

You keep it in the back of your mind as you fish your keys out of your pocket when the shop comes into view. 

Instead of taking the front door, you sneak in the back, to keep Lucio hidden from the public for now. You just want a little privacy.

"S-so this is the shop," Lucio whispers, standing next to you as you unlock the door.

"Yup," you reply cheerfully as the door swings open.

You cringe at the fine layer of dust on the cabinets as you hang your coat up on the coat-hanger next to the front door. You turn to take Lucio's and do the same when you're met with his weeping face.

"I... I'm sorry..." he whimpers, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"Hey, it's okay to cry," you reassure him as your arms reach up and undo the clasp on his cape before hanging it up next to your coat.

"No, it's not! I was an awful person, and I still am! I did that to everyone, my own citizens! Just because I was afraid! I can never be forgiven, no matter how many times I apologize! I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you! You should've left me on the Lazaret to die, just like I did to you." His voice wavers and breaks as he crumbles into a ball against the wall.

Your mouth opens and closes as you struggle to find words to say. When you do, you drop to your knees in front of him. 

Carefully you lift his face from between his knees, forcing his gaze to meet yours. Only three words leave your lips.

"I forgive you."

"W-what?"

"I forgive you. Someone who was unforgivable, wouldn't break down like this. They wouldn't beg for forgiveness or cry because they've done horrible things. Unforgivable people don't care. Yes, you've done horrible things, but any sane person would've done the same thing. You took the dying bodies away from your healthy citizens, even though they were family, you protected them from the plague. You protected them from dying."

"I did what I had too..."

"You did what was right."

"I brought the beetles here though... They caused the plague."

"Did you know they caused the plague when you did?"

"No... they just followed me and wherever I went the plague came. I didn't make the connection 'till I was dying too."

"Then it wasn't your fault. You didn't know."

His gaze lifts and he leans into my touch.

"Thank you... I never thought I'd have forgiveness, yet, here you are, forgiving me."

"You promised you'd never do it again. That's enough for me. The fact you're trying to change was always enough for me."

He doesn't respond with words. Tears just roll down his cheeks as I wrap my arms around him. He tries to copy but hisses when he lifts his prosthetic.

"I know you're sad and all, however, I can tell your prosthetic is bugging you. Please, let me help you," you whisper, pulling back a little.

"It's fine, really," his voice comes out shaky from crying.

"It's not. I saw you fidgeting with it on our walk here."

"No, I wasn't!"

"You're human again now Lucio, things rub and hurt. You need to let your body take a break."

"That's what they told me when I was dying and kept wearing my arm..."

"You're not dying. I just care for you. Please let me help you!"

"No ones ever... said that..." He leans into you.

Taking that as a yes, you help him to his feet. He keeps his hand on your arm like you'd disappear the moment he let go.

You lead him up the stairs to the small apartment you live in with Asra. His breath hitches in awe as he looks around while you lead him to your bed.

"Sit," you tell him softly, moving to grab a silk cloth from the shelf.

He sits down on the bed, watching you curiously. His golden eyes keep managing to catch yours.

_Gosh, they're beautiful._

You return to the bed, laying the silk out next to him. Carefully, you undo his arm, letting it detach from his body. You focus on wrapping it up and storing it away before you check his arm. Letting him adjust to being around you without the prosthetic.

When you return to the bed, he's holding his amputation, looking down at the floor. 

Your heart sinks a little.

Carefully, you remove your usual outfit, being mindful of the other person in the room, replacing them with a grey t-shirt and planet patterned pyjama pants that you usually sleep in. Maybe that'll help. You also bring a shirt and pants over for Lucio, Asra had them for some reason, they don't fit him though. 

"Hold still," you say softly, setting the clothes down next to him.

He doesn't respond, just grunts as you slip his white jacket off him followed by his off-white button-up, folding them neatly and setting them on the counter nearby. You can't help yourself as your gaze washes over his exposed torso, drinking him like a victorian man seeing a woman's ankle. He's gorgeous, his defined features softly edged with hints of fat from not working out for several years. He's still holding his arm sadly as you pick up the shirt.

You reach your hand down and tip his face up towards yours gently.

"Lucio, can you hold your arms up?" You ask, half to get the shirt on, and the other half because you remember someone's notes on getting the Count to retain mobility in his amputation without the prosthetic. 

He sighs, holding your gaze, as he raises his arms. You slip the shirt onto his torso.

Somehow he looks even more vulnerable in the loose black t-shirt, slumped on your bed. His gaze has once again dropped to the floor.

"Okay, what's the matter?" You ask, crouching down so that he's looking at you.

"I... how can you stand seeing me like this?" he whispers.

You blink as it finally registers, he's ashamed. The Count of Vesuvia is embarrassed by something.

You laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" His voice cracks and tears well up in his eyes.

"S-sorry, I just... you're embarrassed by something! You, the Count with the self-confidence of a lion!"

"I guess it is rather silly..."

"But, you shouldn't be ashamed. This, right here, is a battle scar. It shows history. It gives you a veil of mystery. And might I say, makes you sexier." 

You barely have time to wink before his lips are on yours, his remaining hand pulling you further in by the back of your head, his fingers woven into your hair tightly. 

Then he pulls back as quickly as he started.

"I... sorry. I don't know why I... I just kinda..."

You shake your head, rising to your feet before pressing your lips back onto his passionately, cupping his jaw with one hand and trailing down his body with the other.

His hands quick to rest on your ass, pushing you forward so you're sitting on his lap.

You're so caught up in making out that you don't hear the commotion in the street until a loud bang rips into your ears.

"What the fuck?" Lucio mumbles, glaring at the window.

\- > **"We should go see what that was."**

> "It's probably pre-masquerade festivities. Ignore it, we've got all the pre-festivities we need here."


End file.
